


Death and Her Angel

by foolofatook001



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, MUMZA IS DEATH, Major Character Death but there are respawns, Philza is the ultimate survivor, Sort Of, Technoblade is there, a match made in heaven, eventually, or at least yknow the afterlife, petition to change it to Philza Minecraft instead, why is Phil's tag his name it's so dumb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29915226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foolofatook001/pseuds/foolofatook001
Summary: In which Philza Minecraft, hardcore survivor, catches the attention of Death herself. A Mumza-as-Death story.
Relationships: Philza/Mumza
Comments: 12
Kudos: 50





	1. Morior Invictus

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the lavendercord for the initial idea and bouncing headcanons around for like half an hour, and thank you to the chasing starlight-cord for giving me the motivation to write and making me sprint lol <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morior invictus - I die undefeated.

The first time Phil sees her, he’s half a heart away from dying. He’s been hit straight on by a potion of poison from a witch that had snuck up on him while he was preoccupied with a stubborn strap on his armor. It’s all he can do to stumble away from the cackling creature, swearing all the while. This is _hardcore._ He can’t allow himself to be so distracted, especially when he’s this far from his base. He climbs a tree with the strength he still has left, wedges himself into a cleft in the branches, and rides it out. He doesn’t have any milk on him, and he’s annoyed with his lack of foresight. He hates poison potions. They bring a player down to the lowest health one can have without outright killing them, leaving them weak and vulnerable until they can find food again. Shocks of pain go through his body, and he can _feel_ his health ticking down, slowly, steadily. It is all he can do to keep himself upright in the tree, screwing his eyes nearly shut against the alternating waves of numbness and stabbing pain that wash over him as the poison creeps through his veins. 

And that is when he sees her: a veiled figure, leaning over him with curiosity. Her grey, shadowy robes fall gracefully from her shoulders to her feet, and there is a strange flare of bright light behind her, stretching out, almost like wings. 

His eyes spring open fully, but she is gone, and the poison’s effects are slowly fading. He feels shaky and weak and confused. Who or what had he seen? This is a single-player world. There is no one else around but the mobs, and whatever he’d seen had most certainly not been a mob. 

After a few minutes in which the mysterious figure does not reappear, Phil shakes it off as a near-death hallucination, scarfs down half a loaf of bread, and climbs out of the tree. He’s got to keep a better eye out for witches in the future. Thank the gods that they’re fairly rare mobs. 

-0-

He is half a step from entering her realm, the first time she really sees him. This one has lasted longer than most, making steady progress toward the End and what lies beyond with careful persistence. This is the closest he’s ever got to her, however, and she is struck with the sudden, somewhat impulsive urge to take a closer look at _him._

He is braced up against a tree trunk, his eyes closed tight and his arms wrapped around his stomach. His face is pale and twisted with pain; his long blond hair hangs lank beneath his battered, striped hat. His dented iron armor glints in the fading sunlight.

Death tilts her head to the side. He won’t die — it’s only a potion of poison. It will merely take him to the brink, and she knows he will be far more careful the next time he ventures into the swamps. 

She rather hopes he will be more careful, anyways. He’s spent so long surviving already. It would be a shame for all his hard work to go to waste.

He sucks in a sudden breath, and when she looks back at him, his blue eyes, half-lidded and hazy, have latched onto her. She whips her cloak around herself, disappearing from his sight. It is not time for him to face Death just yet. 

(She can’t help but be flattered by the split second of awe she’d seen on his face, however.)

-0-

Phil has all but put the incident out of his mind. It was years ago. He’s come a long way since then, and the strange apparition he’d seen in his pain-filled haze as he just barely teetered on the edge of life and death is nothing more than a passing thought every now and then. He has far more pressing matters to attend to most of the time — his survival is, as ever, at the forefront of his mind, and there are monuments to build, mechanisms to engineer, mountains to level. 

He has far better equipment now: diamond armor gleaming with enchantments and a named sword (his Benihime) that will mend in his hands. It doesn’t take much to take down mobs these days; sheer numbers or getting caught off-guard is really all he has to worry about at this point. 

He is reasonably confident, but not cocky. He still takes precautions, aware as always of his single life, but right now these zombie pigmen are angry and they _will_ _not_ be appeased, no matter how long he spends away from the Nether. He’s got things to do: Withers to kill and beacons to craft. He really only has one option, and that’s to lure all the pigmen to one spot and fall on them like a thunderbolt. Take them out in one fell swoop. 

-0-

Death cannot help but think this man is being just a little bit… well, cocky. He has certainly progressed from the battered figure she’d seen huddled in the tree — there is a straightness to his spine and a confidence to his step lent to him by the diamond armor and tools he bears, as well as the experience granted by the dragon he’s slain. She has followed his progress with growing interest as the years pass. He builds great monuments and flattens entire valleys, shaping the whole world to his will. 

It’s almost impressive, honestly. It’s truly a shame that it will all be left alone to fade into dim memory after he dies. He must know this. And yet he still builds, making the most of his one life while it is still in his grasp. It is… an inspiring choice.

 _This,_ however, is a stupid decision. 

She watches as he taunts the zombie pigmen, drawing them to a pillar of netherrack. They pile up at its base, snarling and slashing with their swords, dozens of them all after his blood.

He is preparing to stab down at them, she thinks, or perhaps he has some other plan in mind, but he has no chance to implement it, because that is when the ghast appears. 

-0-

The ghast spits a fireball at him while he is balancing precariously on a one-block wide pillar of netherrack, surrounded by infuriated zombie pigmen. He has a single moment to try and block with his sword and think, _Aw, f—_ before he is knocked backward into the seething mass of pigmen below him. They squeal in rage, and he scrambles to his feet, sprinting away, weaving and dodging as they lumber after him, golden swords aloft. Behind him, the ghast wails and spits another fireball. He ducks his head and runs faster. He doesn’t have time to block, he has to outmaneuver the pigmen, has to get to higher ground — 

Phil stumbles off a ledge and lands so hard that his teeth click together. His knees protest as he starts running again, but he forces himself onward. He’s lost a lot of health. His hand goes to his pocket, where he keeps the ‘god apple’ he found in one of the abandoned sand temples. Should he— No, he can do well enough without it. He’s not _that_ close to death.

-0-

Death follows the man closely, intent on his sprinting figure. This is the nearest he’s come to crossing into her realm for quite some time now. The ghast is still shooting fireballs at him. Awful creatures. So terribly inconvenient. 

She watches as he scales a netherrack hill and pivots on his heel, bringing his bow up in one smooth motion. He fires off arrow after arrow at the ghast, finally bringing it down. Then he nimbly leaps up the hill, sparing one final look over his shoulder for the frustrated horde of pigmen, who cannot reach him now. And then he pauses for a moment, confusion and shock crossing his face, and she realizes he has seen her once again.

This time she spares him a smile before she vanishes herself from his sight. 

-0-

He sees _her_ again, and this time he cannot pass it off as a poison-induced vision, not when the adrenaline is still pumping through his veins and he feels far more alive than he has in weeks, after the closest brush with death that he’s had in years. 

He’d glanced back to make sure the pigmen couldn’t get up to him, and there she was, standing not ten blocks away in midair, robed in grey with wings of light streaming from her back and a sheer veil over her face. 

She smiles at him. It is a kind smile, with a hint of mischief about it. And then she disappears. 

All he can do is stare. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: the zombie pigman/ghast thing actually happened on the Season 2 Hardcore world: it's in episode 48 of Hardcore Series 2 on Phil's channel. Worth a watch :)


	2. Mors Mihi Lucrum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mors Mihi Lucrum - Death to me is reward.

Phil sees her off and on again, always just out of the corner of his eye. There she is, watching with concern as he fights off guardians in an ocean monument, giving him a smile and silent applause when he is victorious. There she is, perched on an obsidian tower as he fights the dragon for the second time. There she is, flying beside him for a moment as he swoops a little too close to the trees while trying to get a hang of flying with the elytra he’s found in the End City. It’s never too often, but he learns to appreciate the quick glimpses he gets of his mysterious guardian. That’s how he’s come to think of her — a guardian angel of sorts, who appears only in his darkest moments to guide him back to safety. She only shows up when he’s doing something particularly dangerous (like voluntarily fighting the Ender dragon  _ again), _ but it’s how he knows he’ll survive. She’s a good omen, even if she never stays long. 

He’s begun to grow fond of her. Even if all that it means is that he’s lost his mind slightly from all these years alone on a hardcore server, it’s nice to feel like there’s someone looking out for him.

-0-

His time is coming. Death can feel it fast approaching, and it saddens her. He’s accomplished so much, and she has been there to see most of it. Soon he’ll have to leave it all unfinished, cursed to only be able to return as a passive spectator, unable to change anything more in this world. It has been nearly three and a half centuries he’s spent here, building and creating. 

She likes his sky city, likes watching when he swoops with practiced ease around its spires for hours, just reveling in his own power of flight. His joy and laughter is infectious, and she smiles along with him, invisible but present anyway. 

She knows when it is the Day. He is returning from the End, and he slips into a cave without putting his enchanted chestplate back on, instead leaving the elytra he loves so much settled comfortably on his back. 

The skeleton shoots him first, and he whips around, pulling out his bow and firing back instantly. It is something he has done a thousand times. Easy. The skeleton goes down after two well-placed shots, dropping its bow and collapsing in a clatter of bones.

Then the baby zombie charges out at him from the darkness, and Death almost cannot watch. This is the beginning of the end. The zombie is equipped with a full set of golden armor, and takes him by surprise. The wings can’t take the hits like his chestplate can, and he is forced to scramble back. There is a blessed apple in his pocket. He doesn’t take it, however, even though she wills him to.  _ Just survive a little bit longer, _ she urges him in her mind, but he cannot hear her. He scrambles back away from the undead child— 

And runs straight into the fangs of a waiting spider. 

He dies in agony, the spider’s venom coursing through his system, and Death keeps vigil at his side, invisible, until he finally crosses into her realm.

-0-

He’s died. To a baby zombie and a spider. Because he was an idiot and didn’t wear his chestplate into a damn cave, like some wet-behind-the-ears newbie player. Phil buries his face in his hands and drags them slowly downward. “ _ No, _ " he says aloud. “Oh my God.  _ That’s _ how I die?” 

“You did well,” says a woman’s voice from behind him. It is kind, and sad, and understanding. 

He whirls around, reaching for a sword that’s not there, and freezes as he sees  _ her. _ “You,” he breathes. “You’re the one who’s been looking out for me this whole time. You’re not — you’re not just in my head?” 

She shakes her head and laughs. “I am very real,” she tells him, and he lets out a laugh of his own that’s more relieved than he’d like to admit. 

“Well, that’s good then,” he says. “Nice to know I didn’t go completely cracked while I was — how long did I survive?”

“Three hundred and fifty years, or around that,” she says. “Like I said. You did well.”

He lets out a low whistle. Damn. That’s got to be some kind of record. 

Then it hits him. He can never go back to this world. He will never finish the witch farm. He will never be able to do those last little tune-ups on Chaos Caverns. 

He won’t be able to soar around the skies and feel the swoop in his stomach as he goes into a steep dive toward the plains that he himself leveled and lit up with thousands of torches.

His breath rushes out of him in one big  _ whoof _ and he falls to his knees, struck to the heart by the  _ depth  _ of his loss. He can feel the tears building and tries valiantly to hold them back. 

The veiled woman kneels down beside him, setting one gentle hand on his shoulder, her brilliant wings streaming out behind her. Her deep brown eyes are filled with sorrow, and he can tell that she understands. Of course she does— she’d been there right alongside him nearly the whole time. “You’ve done well,” she repeats, and raises him to his feet. 

It is only then that he thinks to look around him. There’s not much to see, honestly — just a wide plain of dirt blocks and grey mist drifting along the ground and in the air. “Where— where are we?” he asks. It’s been a long time since he’s been anywhere but his own little world, but this doesn’t quite seem like any place he has seen before. 

“This is my realm,” she says, and now that he thinks about it, her robes are the very same grey as the mist that swirls around their feet and in the hazy sky. “I’ve been waiting for you for a long time, Philza.”

“Sorry?” he says, blinking at her.

She just smiles at him — oh, there’s that familiar mischievous look behind the serene exterior. “I have a gift for you.”

“Okay,” he says slowly, following after her as she begins to stride forward through the mist. “But you haven’t really explained anything?” He’s asking questions to try and distance himself from the loss of his world. Anything for a distraction — and the mystery of his guardian angel is certainly proving to be a good one. “Who even are you? Why did I keep seeing you?”

“I’ll explain in a little bit. Once we get to my palace.”

“Your— sorry, your  _ palace?" _ Phil casts an incredulous look around the flat plain of dirt. 

“Yes,” she says, simply, and then they are standing in the middle of a high, arching hall, richly carpeted in purple and red, with steps leading up to a dais and a throne. His mysterious guardian is now seated on the throne, holding a wrapped bundle in her hands. “Come forward,” she says, and there is a note of authority in her voice that had not been there previously.

He walks forward until he is at the base of the steps. 

“Philza, you did extraordinary things in life.” Her dark brown eyes are fixed on him. “So Death grants you this gift.” She holds out the bundle and he takes it with suddenly numb arms.  _ Death? _ He’s been thinking fondly of the literal personification of  _ Death? _

“Well, go on,” she says after a moment where he’s just stood there, frozen. She’s very clearly trying not to laugh at him right now, he can tell. Right, yes, just drop a bombshell like that on him and expect him to function normally right after, for sure. Slowly he shifts aside the cloth to reveal the gift within. 

-0-

Death watches those blue eyes widen in wonder as he lifts the wings from their wrappings and smiles fondly. “They’ll stay with you, no matter what server you go to,” she tells him. “I know how you love to fly.”

“I really do,” he breathes, settling them onto his back and letting them fit into place. She thinks he looks complete now — looks as he should. Pure joy lights his face and he launches into the air, letting out a whoop. He circles around the ceiling once, twice, then alights back in front of the dais. “Thank you,” he says, with such earnestness that she cannot help but return his beaming smile. 

“Anything for you,” she says, and means it. “You’ve more than earned it.”

“You were right there the whole time, too,” he returns. He glances down at the ground, then back up at her. “Would you — I mean, you wouldn’t have to, this is probably a bit forward of me, but—”

She holds up a hand, stopping his babbling and catching his eye with an amused look.

“Right, yes,” he says. “Ah. Would you want to walk through my world with me? One more time?” He looks away again. “I don’t want to do it alone,” he admits softly. 

“Of course,” says Death. 

-0-

They spend a week flying around his world, visiting all his projects and reminiscing on some of his near misses and misadventures, as well as his lucky breaks and near-miraculous saves. They start at the spawn island that he’d flattened out and expanded, then detour through the Nether to visit the giant mushroom he’d built. 

“I remember when that ghast and the pigmen nearly got you,” she says with a laugh, and he shakes his head. 

“I was so dumb,” Phil says, ruefully. 

“Well, all right, I was thinking that, too.” 

He makes a face at her. “You didn’t have to agree so fast,” he complains. He can almost forget he’s talking to capital-D Death, when she is smiling at him or making fun. Almost. There’s still that air of otherworldliness about her, something that shines through her eyes sometimes while they’re talking. 

They emerge from the Nether portal and spend some time at the Zombie Base. Phil’s dogs wait patiently by the portal, tails wagging expectantly, tongues lolling out of their mouths, eyes fixed on the swirling purple magic filling the obsidian frame. They will be forever kept in stasis, waiting for a master who will never return. Phil tells each and every one of them that they are the best of boys and did very well, though they cannot hear or see him. 

They visit the End next, and spend a good amount of time flying around the reshaped End Island. He wishes he could slice through some endermen at the farm, just for old times’ sake, but he is relegated to a ghostly, incorporeal state, his Benihime and his other tools lost to the hardcore curse. 

After the End is Chaos Caverns, the different biomes a riot of color. They glide through, making snide remarks about the mobs trapped behind glass, and Phil recalling how many of them were a pain to get into place. 

They fly out to the drained ocean monument after that, taking a moment to rest on the halo of stone that hovers above the whole thing and watch the sunset over the ocean. 

Death tells him her name.

He can’t pronounce it, and she laughs at him. “It’s really not that hard,” she tells him.

He tries and fails again. “I don’t think my mouth is meant to speak your language,” he says, laughing.

“It is sort of divine,” she says, tapping her chin mock-thoughtfully. She’s grown less formal when she talks to him, as the days have gone by. He gives her a flat look.

“Kristin, then,” she says in response. “I’ve always liked that name, you can call me that.”

“Now that I  _ can _ pronounce,” he says with great confidence and she laughs at him again. 

Sky City is the last place they visit, and they spend two full days just flying over the city and remembering how long it had taken to build it. He sits up at the highest point of the city and stares down into the water for a while on the final day, until Kristin comes up and sets a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s time to go,” she says gently, and he lets her pull him to his feet. They are suddenly back on the misty dirt plain once more. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” Phil says, once he can trust his voice again. Neither of them comment on the tears that have spilled down his cheeks. 

“Anytime,” says Kristin instead. “Now, you should go. You can’t stay in the realm of Death forever.” Her smile is tinged with sadness this time. 

“Will I see you again?” he asks, with sudden urgency. He will miss her. She was there through long centuries of being alone; she has shared in his world; she  _ knows _ him, like no one else does. 

“Hopefully not too soon,” she jokes, but it falls slightly flat. Her face grows more serious. “I know you’ll be back someday. You’ll still see me here and there. Don’t worry.” She gives him a sort of half-smile. “I… I’ll miss you. I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I can ask,” he says, wryly. “I guess this is goodbye for now?”

“Goodbye,” she says, and spreads her wings. The plain is enveloped in warm light, and when he can see again, he has returned to life on a hub world with an ache in his heart and wings on his back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: One day IRL = 72 Minecraft days. Therefore 1 IRL year = about 72 Minecraft years, and 5 IRL years = about 360 Minecraft years. 
> 
> Conclusion: Philza Minecraft is quite old.
> 
> All locations listed are from Phil's Season 2 Hardcore world and are pretty freaking awesome. You can see them all (plus before and after footage of all the terraforming and stuff) in Phil's "My Five Years of Minecraft Hardcore" video :)


	3. Mors Vincit Omnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mors Vincit Omnia - Death conquers all.

She sees him again sooner than either of them are expecting. There are of course the short glimpses they get of each other — he has started a new hardcore world and there will always be brushes with death — but they are never long enough to have conversations like they had while they were looking back over that centuries-long world of his one last time. Just a quick smile, a look that says _that was a close one, wasn’t it?_ and then she must go again. She wishes she could stay longer, but there are matters that need her attention elsewhere, and she has spent far too much time with him already. 

She knows herself well enough to realize she is infatuated with this player who clings so tenaciously to life, and has to laugh at the irony. 

But it is with surprise that she sees him appear in her realm once again, out of nowhere. She hadn’t even sensed he was in any kind of danger! She stands, halfway out of her throne before she even knows what she is doing. With a quick thought, she appears at his side, wings spread wide and arms already reaching out to him. “What happened?”

“World glitched,” Phil says, and he is annoyed, jerking his hat off his head and pushing his long blond hair out of his eyes with a sharp motion. “Shoved me off into the void. Nothing I could do.”

She grimaces, sympathetic. His expression lightens somewhat as he looks at her, however. “But on the bright side,” he says, a smile beginning to grow on his face, “now we’ve got some time to talk. It’s been a while.” He nudges her with an elbow and she pushes him away playfully. 

He stays in her realm for about a week. 

She takes to calling him ‘angel’ — he likes to fly around her palace, the swish of dark, feathered wings breaking the usual silence of her domain. He laughs at the nickname before informing her that that was what he had called _her_ in his head all those years on his long hardcore world. 

She doesn’t tell him that she’d pulled the word, with all its associated affection, from his own mind and thought it fitting for him.

“I’m thinking of branching out from just hardcore,” he says to her one day. “I got invited to a tournament that’s meant to start in a few weeks.” He laughs. “Dunno how the organizer heard of me, but I guess my death in my long world was good for something.”

“I’ll be there,” she tells him. A tournament is bound to have fighting, and even when there are respawns, Death is present, if only for a short time. 

“I don’t think I’ll win, or anything,” he cautions. “There’s some big names coming to this thing.” He goes off, listing players, some of whom she recognizes and others that she is sure she has encountered before and simply doesn’t remember immediately. 

“Oh, and _Technoblade’s_ going to be there!” Phil adds, excitedly. She waits for the name to spark some dim remembrance in her mind, but to her surprise, there is nothing. She has never had this player in her realm. 

“Technoblade?” she asks, curious. “Is he young?”

Phil laughs. He laughs a lot, she’s noticed. “Well, I don’t know the man, but I think he’s younger than I am.”

“Philza, you spent three centuries on a hardcore server.”

He laughs again. “Fair point. But yes, he’s a bit young, I think. Why do you ask?” 

She hums. “I don’t recognize his name. Usually a player has been in my realm once or twice, however briefly. But I’ve never heard of him.”

Phil is looking at her with shock in his eyes. “ _Never_?” he repeats.

“No.”

He lets out a low whistle. “Holy— they weren’t lying about his reputation, then. He has a catchphrase,” he explains, catching her curious look. “ _Technoblade never dies_.”

“Interesting,” says Death.

-0-

Phil sees Kristin on and off throughout the tournament — once for a few moments when he falls off the parkour course (she laughs at him, telling him _good try, my angel,_ then helps him to his feet and sends him back on his way with a wave as the world’s respawn kicks in), and later on in the final hunger games match, after he’s been taken out by a pair with iron armor and slightly better weapons. He has to leave her presence to see the end of the match as a hovering spectator, which he does with reluctance, even as his teammate pings him with messages urging him to _respawn already, come on, man._ It probably isn’t healthy, but he wants to spend more time with her. There’s a connection between the two of them, one he doesn’t quite know the meaning of. 

All right, that’s a lie. He knows what it means. He’s not sure when he fell for Death herself, but somehow he’s not surprised. He never takes the easy path. Not in life, and apparently not in love. 

He places in the top twenty and ends up with an invitation back for the next week of the tournament. Kristin beams at him and congratulates him after he’s died in the starting hunger games match, the second week, and it makes his stomach swoop and his smile just a little bit brighter. 

Technoblade keeps winning. 

Phil gets to know his fellow competitors a little bit better as the weeks pass. Which alliances have been in place since before the tournament, who is more likely to team-hop week to week. 

Technoblade never teams with the same player twice. Phil’s not sure how much that has to do with the tournament organizers, and how much it has to do with the fighter himself. 

And then one week he checks his messages, and he has been partnered with Technoblade for the tournament. The name beams up at him innocently from the screen, unaware of the turmoil it has caused. “Technoblade,” he says aloud, like that will make it more real. He hasn’t had much chance to interact with the warrior, though he has seen him dominating in nearly every event, every week. 

He wonders what Kristin will have to say about his partner for this week, when he inevitably dies and sees her for a little while. 

“ _Technoblade,_ ” he repeats, shaking his head, incredulous laughter bubbling up. 

-0-

Phil has been partnered with Technoblade for this week, and Death is extremely curious. She watches the two of them interact before the tournament, seeing Phil doubling over with laughter as the younger warrior rests his hand on the hilt of his sword with a satisfied look. 

He is truly impressive, she must admit — a fierce fighter. He has dispatched many to her realm, and he will continue to do so for a long, long time, she thinks. 

But he’s also a huge — what’s the word Phil uses sometimes? — a huge _dork_. He makes up a silly song about Phil’s name as they pace around the hunger games arena, before the event starts. He cracks jokes as he digs out the ground underneath another player in spleef. He is on edge, anxious about winning, though he’s never lost. 

And Phil does better in the tournament than he has ever done, rising to the bar that his partner has set. Death can feel the pride welling up in her chest as Phil hits bow shot after bow shot, sending player after player back to the start with flashes of lightning. He dies less, this tournament, so she cannot tell him how proud she is, but she hopes he can see it in her face in the quick glimpses he gets.

And in the final hunger games match, they are unstoppable. She claims the soul of one of the players — xQc, he is called — with great satisfaction. He had it coming, and if she holds onto him for a little longer than she should, makes him panic that his respawn isn’t working, well— no one would know but her. (He should not have said the things he did after dying, a couple rounds ago in spleef. Death hears. Death does not take kindly to those who mock her angel.) 

As Technoblade throws the final punch, knocking his opponent to the ground for the last time, he looks up and looks directly at her, and something in his gaze says _Not today. Not ever_. 

Death thinks that that may not be too far off. There is a strange aura about him, now that he isn’t crowded by so many other living players. Something is different about him, and she is all at once glad that her angel seems to be on this man’s good side. 

He is one to keep an eye on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not super happy about this chapter but we got some Techno I suppose... idk. Anyway.
> 
> xQc can go fork off. Go be salty elsewhere, sir. (Although Phil sassing him right before the final hunger games match is absolutely hilarious. It's not in the video, but if you really want to see it, you can hunt through the Twitch archives and track it down :) It gets pretty spicy.)


End file.
